 |
| the new passenger - in the car on upper left |
We
encountered a series of difficulties after leaving the Maosao Inn by
private car. It started out normally enough and we
were on our way around 10:00 am. The trip was estimated to take about four
hours. After half an hour or so the driver asked us if we were
hungry. We said no, but he pulled off the road a short time later and
suggested we eat at a roadside cafe since “it would be a long
drive”. He seemed to be looking out for our welfare so we shrugged
our shoulders and decided to eat. Besides, I needed to urinate so I
asked the proprietress if she had a toilet. She didn't understand the
word “toilet” and no one else spoke English. In desperation I
mimed urinating. She understood immediately, burst out laughing and pointed to a
public toilet across the street. The driver took me in hand and we both crossed the busy road dodging the traffic.
 |
When
we returned from the toilet I noticed a young woman sitting in the car
and eating. I sat down at an outdoor table and we ordered some beef
noodles which were excellent. We got back in the car and discovered a
new passenger, the aforementioned young woman, who was obviously a
friend of the driver's. The reason the driver wanted to stop at that
particular sidewalk cafe now became obvious—to pick up the young
woman. She turned out to be a non-stop chatterbox and obviously knew
the driver—possibly a girl friend or relative—rarely shut her mouth except
for one nap. It got really annoying after a while.
 |
| taking the "scenic route" |
We naively assumed that the driver would take the high speed toll road.
Wrong! The roads he took were local roads through every town and
hamlet; bumpy and often choked with heavy traffic as we crawled
through seemingly endless construction zones. I sarcastically
remarked that we were taking the “scenic route”, avoiding the
toll road to Fenghuang most likely because the driver wanted to
save on tolls to maximize his profit.
We
were not in the best of moods. The driver had finally taken a stretch
of the toll road before getting to the Fenghuang interchange. (By
then I was able to recognize the Chinese characters for Fenghuang
[鳳凰]
and noticed the sign for the
interchange and breathed a sigh of relief.) As we approached
Fenghuang interchange, however, motor mouth was gesticulating and talking a
mile a minute and distracted the driver so that he missed the turn
off. He nonchalantly said something in Chinese that approximated
“Ooops!” and we had to continue on the toll road for another 23 km
to the next exit, do a U-turn and come back for a 50 km detour. The
four hour trip turned into something like a six hour, give or take, bad dream.
 |
| our room with garden view - veggie patch, that is |
 |
| our hotel hostess |
I was
really furious, but at the same time relieved to get to the
rendezvous place (flawlessly, once in Fenghuang, I have to admit), where we met a woman
from the hotel. The driver looked meaningfully at me for his 1000
yuan fare. I gave him a look with a malicious gleam in my eye and
drawled: “I suppose you want your money!”--partly wasted since he didn't understand a word of English. I was sorely tempted to
give him only half the fee but didn't want to deal with a public scene in which I
would be at a disadvantage not able to speak Chinese.
The woman we
met, who turned out to be the hotel owner's wife, escorted us on foot
to the hotel which wasn't very far. She was kind and patient but spoke no English so it took a
while to iron out the registration and room choice details, but we
finally got the right room according to the photos on Booking.com.
 |
| "Right. Let's order a couple more." |
 |
| "One drink is not enough!" |
Although
tired and still in a somewhat angry mood from the long arduous drive
we were hungry and needed a drink. The hotel is conveniently located
right in the old town of Fenghuang. We strolled around the charming
river area at dusk and found a restaurant that served Margaritas
so we went in and had a couple drinks apiece and ordered a pizza, salad and
spaghetti and enjoyed the evening strollers and the sunset over the old town and the river.
 |
| getting ready for their close up |
 |
| sunset |
 |
| evening lights |
 |
| the bar scene on our street |
On our way back to the hotel the atmosphere had changed dramatically on our street. It was dark and all the neon signs were on and music was blaring from the bars and nightclubs. Later, back at the hotel, we found that the heater in our room was
inadequate and that the mattress was quite hard, so we decided to
shorten our stay from 7 to 5 days. That started a round of
complications with the mistress and with Booking.com since you can't
change reservations online yourself once you are at the hotel.
But
that's another story.
No comments:
Post a Comment